


Snow Thoughts

by Zombiekin



Category: Nature - Fandom, Seasons - Fandom
Genre: Drabble, First multichapter thing, Gen, Nature, Spring, Summer, Winter, fall - Freeform, scenery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-22 22:34:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7456456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombiekin/pseuds/Zombiekin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was fun, they say quietly, We should do this again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Winter Silence

**Author's Note:**

> First multichapter thing! I hope you all enjoy it.

The snow is piling on the sides of the sidewalk, sticking in clumps to the wool of her scarf. Her hair is wet, what little of it is poking out of the beanie her father had shoved on her head before she left. She burrows into that warmth as she and her companion walk down the quiet road, silent but for the occasional grate of a snow chains on the icy street. The sky is dark, save for the flakes drifting down like the stars are falling around their shoulders. When she glances over at her partner, she sees their looking at her fondly, almost tender. She knows her cheeks are pink with the cold, but they darken under the careful scrutiny of their eyes. She smirks, playful and happy, bumps their shoulders together good naturedly, feeling them nudge back in solidarity. Their breaths fog the air before them, float up into the snow and disappear into the night in curling wisps. 

Their shoes crunch over broken ice, slosh through half frozen water as they cross the street, not because they need to, but because there's no one on that side and the change of scenery lets them shake the shivers of the cold. She can feel her shins protest against the material of her jeans, cold and achy in a way that makes her itch. It's uncomfortable, the feeling that crawls up her legs and fingers, numbing and itchy painful at the same time. Yet she keeps walking, willing to let the comfort of the evening overpower the slight discomfort. 

A car comes grumbling down the road, throwing slush onto the sidewalk, making them duck together on one half to avoid getting soaked. She doesn't mind, loops her arm through that of her friend, stuffs her hands in her pockets to warm them, blithely offers the idea of coffee and a place to sit down. They agree, because neither are quite ready to let go of the evening yet. Together under the glow of the snow and the street lights, they don't have to think about anything else. They can just be, if only for a few hours. It leaves them warm despite the biting wind. Soft against the frozen outside. It's real, for her. For them. It's home, on the streets of a town long since buried in ice. A place of rest, of peace. 

The coffee burns her hands as she grips the cup, searing the cold out of her numb fingers. Her ankles are crossed under the table, resting against her seat mate’s own boots. The two drink in comfortable silence, trading smiles and glances every so often. They’re content with the quiet, listening to the whirring of the latte machine, the faint music coming from the barista’s headphones. Outside, the snow grows dense, almost too thick to walk in, and their breath fogs against the windows of the deserted coffee shop. 

She loses track of just how much time passes, between cups of coffee and the falling snow. The shop is closing though, as they pull their coats back on and steel themselves for the cold outside. The weather has tamed, leaving in its wake a biting cold that settles across her cheeks and makes her shiver, wishing she could be back in that coffee shop across from her friend. Their night is drawing to a close, she can feel it in the way they shift their feet, glance around awkwardly. 

This was fun, they say quietly, We should do this again.

She agrees, wholeheartedly really, and tells them as much. They stand for another long moment, drinking in her face with a soft bowing smile, eyes flicking back and forth between red ears and small freckles. The silence sinks over them while they gaze at her, lift their hand to brush a thumb against her cheek, to watch her cheeks pinken for a reason other than the cold. They pull away though, reluctantly, and twist their jacket tighter to their body, bidding her a quiet good night and turning their back to her.  
She watches them until they turn the corner, stares at the spot they vanished for several long minutes while she gets her bearings back. When she finally pulls herself away from the frozen sidewalk, it’s a slow walk retracing their path across the frozen town. Her mind wanders without the company of her partner to draw her back, twisting her fingers through her scarf. Thoughts linger on the warmth of their hands, how she’d itched with an incomprehensible urge to reach out and touch back.  
The home she comes back to is crowded, stuffy compared to the chilled clear air outside. If she wasn’t so cold she’d prefer to be out there. Ducking around person after person, she climbs the pile of stairs up to her room. It’s warm, dark in a way the night sky wasn’t. She half considers a shower as she discards her hat and coat, tosses the winter clothing off to the side to be dealt with in the morning, but decides against it, falling into her bed, and pointedly ignoring the hollers from the room below. Her escape had been short lived after all, no matter how refreshing it had seemed.  
Against her hip, her phone vibrates once, twice, to notify her she’s received texts. She knows before even looking who it is, what they say. Pressing her smile against the sleeve of her now damp shirt and slides the screen open.


	2. Spring Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spring comes as it always does.

Spring comes in the way it always does. The snow is there one day, cleaning the air, freezing the sky, and the next it's a puddle on the ground, with small little green roots springing at the corners. The world wakes from its long frozen slumber, yawns widely and scratches its belly. 

It dredges up the stored away flowers, the rich soil of fields for crops. The streams drip to life, ebb and flow into rivers, into lakes, into seas. The sun blinks blurry through the shades of her window as she wakes with the earth, yawning too. The birds nested in the window outside chirp with the breeze, sing to the branches they make their home from. 

She hums with them, pulling her hair back and stretching into the sunlight filtering onto her bed. Her home is quiet, but for the snores she hears down the hall. She takes the opportunity to dress quickly, nearly tripping into her boots as she makes for the door before the house can wake. They can deal with a morning without her, she thinks rather bitterly, but just like the melting snow, her mood turns liquid and gold against the blinding rays of sunshine. 

The air is still thick with the bite of winter, burning over her cheeks and staining her ears red. Her feet bounce along the icy sidewalk, teetering on dangerously off balance as she twists out of crashing to the cold cement. She squints against the sun’s glare off the water, stomps particularly hard on a puddle and watches the ripples until they still. Everything feels green around her, fresh and new and naive. The buds of flowers poke out from between the sidewalk cracks, the new leaves on the branches of trees glitter like pearls. A stray cat nestles itself high on the top of a parked car, snuggled tight under the warm sun. She feels enchanted, feels less broken with the emerging life. 

Time gets lost between the birds making new nests and the fall of dew from overgrown grass. She wanders without a goal, just to feel the stretch in her legs and the burn of cold air in her lungs until she finally finds another person in her path. 

He leans against a damp mailbox, calloused hands folded under his arms, the scruff of his beard looking just as soft as the last time she’d seen it. He’s softer now, she thinks as her steps stutter to a halt, hand halfway to raised like she can’t help but reach out. The cold seeps into the air around them, tense, charged, pained. She braces herself for when he speaks, words of regret bouncing around her head marbles in a shaken jar.

He doesn’t say anything. Those lips she loves part for words that don’t make it passed his throat, and not a sound is uttered between them as he shakes off the ice in his legs and forces a step forward. And just as the spring melted the snow off the road, his eyes and his smile and his hands folded under his arms, she falls into him. Something buds in her heart, after her long winter, winds it’s fragile roots between her veins and sinks into her muscles and just like that, she’s Spring.


End file.
